❦ WINNER OF THE RIVETING WRITING CONTEST ❦
OLIVER IS DYING
With only months left to live at just seventeen, Oliver spends his remaining days of endless tests and debilitating drugs in the St. Andrews paediatrics ward planning his impending funeral...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I don't know how long I've been standing on the front porch for, the key hovering before the lock.
How am I supposed to tell my father the truth? How do I say it? What do I say? How do I start? For that matter, where do I start? What happens after he finds out? What do I do?
My mind floods with scenarios, all of them ending the same—my ass strapped in a seat on a plane bound for North Dakota.
I can only see this conversation going badly. I can only see Dad's reaction as completely enraged; hateful even. He wouldn't just disown me. He'd bury me. He'd send me to North Dakota on a one-way trip. He'd make sure I fall off the face of the earth.
But the way Ollie looked at me when I told him I was going to tell my parents the truth...how could I not?
Just the way he looked at me when he stumbled out of the bathroom, blood covering his hands and smeared across his nose and mouth, I've never seen him look so scared.
That had been enough to know that it's time to tell the truth. I owe it to him to be open with everything. I can't do what I did to Hunter to Ollie.
I take a deep breath and release it as I slot the key into the lock and turn it. I hear muffled voices when I walk through the foyer towards the living room. I press my back to the wall and listen to the conversation.
"It's disgusting," my father spits.
"Richard—"
"No, Susan, it's despicable. I thought Christian was a better man than allowing that degenerate he has the audacity to call his son to live under his roof. It's...It's unnatural. It's completely against the law of nature."
I stop in my tracks. A knot forms in my chest, slowly beginning to claw into my throat.
Christian Murdoch, I assume Dad's referring to. I've only met him once. I've met his son Andy more times. He's a nice guy. He's always been friendly to me on every occasion we've crossed paths at.
But my gaydar must really be as bad as I originally thought because I never would've guessed that Andy is gay. Sure, I've noticed the way he looked at me and other guys. And, sure, I've noticed the way he seemed to feel somewhat uncomfortable around his girlfriend whenever she showed him any affection, which is now very clear that she was his beard.
If Andy's dad knows he's gay—from what my father is saying, Christian knows—he's accepted it. I envy that.
"I'm going to fire him," Dad's anger shatters my thoughts. "I will not tolerate that kind of disgusting lifestyle by any member of my staff."
I glance around the corner to see how tense my mother looks. "Christian is a good man. He's secured a lot of our success during this campaign."
"I will not have any association with a man who has a son who...who enjoys what's only supposed to happen between a man and woman with another man! Next thing you'll be telling me is that son of his will want to marry another man."
